Love Me, like the Old Times

Chapter 4 : The Boy

My mother was really worried about the bruise in my face, she could not wait any longer for that boy to come back and bring those herbs.

I doubt he knows what herbs my mother were talking about.

My mother decides that she will go to town, phone our house and ask our servants to send the driver to pick us up, so she can attend my bruised face.

I nodded. And she walks toward the nearest store at the park. Three blocks away.

This day could still turn great. I cheered myself thinking that it's the second time I've experienced these kind of situations. I couldn't help myself compare the boy who rescued me and the boy who I met a while ago.

They both looked local. Filipinoes, I think. But not quite the same as they were taller compared to the other children our age, with the same colored skin and brown eyes but I did not really see my rescuer's face unlike the boy earlier who I thought was handsome and athletic, with brown bright eyes.

Then I remembered. I froze and blush at the same time.

"The boy who rescued me, kissed me! My first kiss. Noooo." anxious as I touched my lips while reminiscing yesterday's incident.

I was consumed by own thoughts. The possibility that no one would want to marry me because someone already took my first kiss without my consent. Haunts me. I felt kind of dizzy. Thoughts running through my mind that I could not hear someone talking to me.

Then my own litte bubble burst when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I quiver, and looked up.

"Hey, I brought this." he smiled while showing me what he carries in his hand.

"Sorry, I got here late. I took this herbs myself and warmed these for you." he handed me those herbs.

It was warm and I could see that this boy was dripping sweat all over his face. He must have ran to get here.

I pressed the warm herbs to my cheek and relaxed as the pain numb.

"Sorry again about this. My name is Hugo. I'd really want us to be friends." He looked at me, smiled then he extended his hand.

I took his hand and shakes it.

"I'm Emilia, thank you for your offer. I was really hoping to find new friends since I just got here fro..." my words were cut up when I heard my mother calling me just outside the park.

She was with our driver.

"You should better go and relax at home." he suggested.

He's really thoughtful. I thought while still drowning at his beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh, right. Right." woken by my own thoughts. I smiled at him for one last time and felt a little embarrassed realising I haven't let go of his hand yet.

I quickly pull my hand, turn and strode towards my mother as I felt his gaze, still looking at me.

Felt a sudden mix of emotions. I think I'm having a crush on that local boy.

"Hugo? It's a good name for his handsome face."

"Why are you smiling like that Emilia?" my mother asked me suspiciously.

I mentally slap myself and reminded my own that I am too young to be infatuated with a boy. I am still 13 years old still turning 14 about 10 days from now, practically a baby in my parent's eyes.

"Nothing Mamá, I was thinking that I'll be turning 14, 10 days from now."Remembering that it is almost my birthday. I found a distraction. So my mother won't bug me about Hugo.

"Oh! Yes dear." she said with puzzled yet surprised expression on her face.

I sigh that my mother did not saw through my distraction. We talked about my incoming birthday celebration until we arrived home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was Sunday morning. And we prepared ourselves for mass.

I brush my hair and looked at the mirror. I wore a simple plain red sunday dress, not too puffy on the waist down. Not fitted either but the waistband hugs my slim waist to emphasize the skirt. It hung to my ankles.

I'm still not a lady. I wonder when will I have a woman's figure.

I grabbed my skirt up and viewed my legs at the mirror. My other hand covered my face with a fan. I ponder through the idea on how it would looked like if our dresses wouldn't be this preserved and old-fashioned.

Swaying my hips as I hold my skirt, I pushed my sleeves up.

I like the way it looked.

Smiling giddily at myself in the mirror, looking like an idiot.

A sudden knock on the door woke my senses.

"Emilia! Are you ready?" my father called out. "The kalesa is here." He added.

"Ready!" I exclaim.

The ride to the church was silent except for the rocking sound of the carraige when it ran over a stone and the clumping sound of the horse's hooves. I was sitting beside my mother. My father infront of her.

The weather here is so warm but enveloped with fresh cool breeze. There's just too many trees here compared to Spain.

Everyone in town can hear the sound of the church's bell. They say, even if you lived at the forest but still hear the bell. You are required to attend mass. That's just the rule.

Spanish people are really devoted on being Catholics. They are forcing there beliefs on everybody.

We entered the church and I became wary of the ambient. All eyes were glued to us as we sat down to our seats. Or more likely ,glued to me.

"Is there something on my face? I know for sure my bruise were healed. I checked it this morning." I carefully touched my cheeks and sprung my fan open and waved it near my face, making sure it covers half of it.

It worked. They continued with their business. Gossiping while waiting for the priest. I relaxed on my seat and scanned the place.

Looking around I saw a familiar face. I tried my best to remember who it was.

"The boy who saved me!" I squealed, as if my mouth has a mind of it's own. My voice echoed through the place.

Everyone turned their heads in a snap and there I was again.

Shrank to my seat. Wishing the earth would devour me.

.....................................................................

How embarrassing is that?! Oh my my... Kkkkkkk

Credits to the photo above.

Please leave a comment and vote!